Blackguards & Prevaricators
by WichitaRed
Summary: They are young gang leaders and everyone knows who they are, so a night on the town is bound to be exciting… As they prove clearly on this evening at the Little Dipper


Wichita Red, Blackguards & Prevaricators/ 17

Author's note: This tale is during their young, strong, wild days as leader's of the Devil's Hole Gang. However, there are some time line issues...you will know it as soon as it comes up. Please, over look, could not get the idea out of my head. Wichita Red

**Wichita Red, Blackguards & Prevaricators**

Heyes laid out a full house, leaning his chair back on two legs, grinning like a dog who know the smoke house door is open.

Throwing down his trio of aces, Kid howled, "Tarnation! Heyes, I know you ain't cheatin' but well, damn it!"

Wheat dropped his cards on the table, "What he said."

"Damnation, Heyes." Haig grumbled, "that is seven times running."

"I realize that." Heyes took a sip of his whiskey and swept in his winnings.

Kyle frowned, "Don't ya feel even a bit bad taking so much money off us."

"Not in the least." Heyes stated, sorting his taken into neat the neat piles before him. "One, it was you boys who thought it would be grand to play dollar poker and I told all of you, that you did not want to play it against me. AND, I warned all of you, not to get to deep in your cups or, I would clean the floor with you."

Haig looked at his banknotes, rubbing a hand across his mouth. "But, Heyes..."

Heyes peeked up and looking across the table, "If I were you Haig, I would take what little of your grub roll, you got left, and back out now."

"You ain't leavin' me enough to live on."

"Ah, break off your bellyaching; ain't I the one who purchases your supplies?"

Haig grunted, picked up his cash, and kicking his chair back, left the table.

Lobo looked around once, shrugged and followed Haig to the bar.

Sweeping the cards in, Heyes, set to shuffling them, when a shadow fell across him. He looked up to see a pair of strangers. His mouth twisting into his crooked, tight lipped grin, not liking the men stepping up on him so easy.

They were both older men, graying at the temples but still tough in their builds. The taller of the two, wore a well-fitted dark suit with eyes and hair to match, cleared his throat, "Mind if we join?"

"Not if you brought your wallets." Heyes replied, motioning to the empty chairs.

Pulling out a stack of bills each, they took a seat.

Heyes turned to Kyle, Wheat, and Curry, "You three sticking with it?"

"Well, why not. You won't be letting me starve." Kyle answered.

"Same, goes for me." Curry said, with a wide grin.

Heyes shook his head at both of them and looked to Wheat, "You thinking the same?"

"Why not at all, Heyes, hell, I got funds to burn...like you. Sides, I would plain ol' like to best you at your game."

You can try."Heyes answered, cutting the deck one-handed, the cards spinning and dropping in a steady rhythm."

"We gonna play or, sit here chattering like hens?" asked Kyle.

"Guess, Kyle's got funds to burn also." Wheat laughed, lifting his whiskey glass and toasting Kyle across the table.

The tall man who had asked to join, abruptly moved. Then he froze, his eyes shooting wide-open at the smooth click of the hammer on Curry's Colt.

"I was just fixing to take off my coat." The man said, his dark eyes locked on the open end of the barrel, targeted on him.

The smaller man toting one, heavy, black eyebrow; licked his lips, and said "Maybe this is not the game for us."

Wheat pushed the pistol barrel down, "Oh, we can be a right friendly bunch." He jerked a thumb at Curry, who was holstering his revolver. "Kid's just a tad jumpy, is all."

Curry, rolled his eyes, swiping up his beer, and downing its contents. He called, "Beth," holding up the empty mug.

Heyes pushed the deck to the center, "New comers deal." He stated more than asking, but also left his hand on top of the deck. "First, though, I have two questions for you."

Kyle leaned forward, "I got this, Heyes." He turned his blue eyes on the tall man to his right, then to the one on his left, asking, "Is y'all bounty hunters?" and looking to his left again, asked, "And, where y'all from?"

The strangers looked about and back to the men they had sandwiched themselves between, finally the nervous one, said, "No and Little Snake."

Still watching Beth, as she chatted up some men by the bar, Curry offhandedly asked, "Bit far from home ain't you?"

The short man sitting between Kyle and Heyes had a fine sheen of sweat across his nose and taking a breath, he softly said, "Gentlemen, I think-"

Heyes interrupted him, "I think we should play poker...but, Kyle those were not my questions."

"Oh!" Kyle grinned.

"Good ones, though." Heyes nodded at him, "Mine are...what can we call you gents and can I buy you a drink."

Both men's eyebrows raised.

The taller more aggressive man said, "I will take a beer and they call me Ned."

Heyes glanced at the man on his right, "Walt Seymour and I would take a beer, too."

Heyes took his hand off of the deck and called, "Hey Beth_,_ bring a whole round of beers to this table with Kid's."

"You buyin'?" Kyle asked.

"Why not." Heyes grinned, relaxing back in his chair.

The cards slid round the table for the next hour, throughout, the chatter remained good-natured and they learned Ned and Walt were newspaper men, heading up to Pinedale to pick up a new printing machine. Heyes had reined himself in, even secretly giving a round to Wheat and Curry. This last round, he had felt sure Kyle had a winning hand. For fun of it, he had made him sweat for it, by bumping the bid, all the way, through to the call.

Raking in the large pot, Kyle's eyes sparkled, "Hell, Heyes, ya can feel sorry for me anytime ya want."

"How do you know, I did not have the hand that would beat you?"

"Just thought, I saw something, once, when ya looked my way. Not often, I can read anyone at all, but..." Kyle grinned, stacking the bills.

"You put down, all you had, on a quick look?" Wheat asked.

"That and 'cause, I was holding four ladies. Ain't no man can give up on four ladies who have decided they like 'em."

Curry poked his cousin with the toe of his boot, and when he looked over, whispered, "There are times, I just don't understand you at all."

Heyes shrugged, answering quietly back, "See, you don't know me as well, as you like to boast."

"Hey, no whispering at the table." Wheat bellowed, shoving Curry in the shoulder, nearly over turning his chair. "It ain't right and it ain't fair."

Curry righted himself, whipping about, laying a hard look on Wheat.

"Uh Huh, Kid, you pass that right on to Heyes...I can't reach 'em and he should know better."

Liking the idea, Curry swung round to punch his cousin in the shoulder.

But, Heyes, was wearing a down, right serious look.

Curry's smile appeared, the large one which always got him in trouble.

Heyes shook his head, "I know where you sleep."

The smile got even bigger.

"Think hard on it, partner_._"

The smile faltered, Curry' nose wrinkled, and he opted for taking a drink of his beer, rather than following through on Wheat's idea.

Heyes shook his head, shuffled the cards, and dealt them out; deciding he was done going easy on them. He sat up, leaning his arms on the table, once more taking critical note of the men he was playing against. He saw Curry's blue eyes were darting across his cards, from one side to another, and Heyes thought, 'he has two separate pairs and is trying to decide if he should risk for one card or, three."

The white line of Wheat's nail bed was showing as he held his cards, Heyes browsed by him, thinking, 'He ain't got anything worthwhile.'

His eyes slid on to Ned, 'Him, I ain't got figured out, yet. He sure does run his tongue across his teeth a lot. Definitely, a tell. I just ain't played with him long enough, to break it down. Maybe a few more hands. And, Kyle has already laid his cards on the table, with his hand over them to protect, what he feels is a good hand."

Peeking over at Walt, he watched him poke at his banknotes with an ever deepening frown on his face, as he pondered his cards. 'He is easy the more fidgeting and frowning, he does, the better his hand is.'

Then, Curry laid three dollars in the pot, glancing to Wheat.

Wheat stared at his cards and tossed them face down in the pot.

Curry snorted.

"Not a word, Kid, I ain't been in good tussle in more than a month and I am feelin' itchy enough, I might even consider takin' you on." Wheat groused, leaning back to watch the play.

Ned looked at the pot, "Here is my three and five more."

Kyle rubbed his palm over his cards, just barely, then added the eight dollars.

Walt knocked a few more bills around and put in his bid.

Without hesitation Heyes tossed his in and looking to his cousin, asked, "How many did you decide?"

Curry laid down one card and as Heyes passed him a replacement, he winked, "I would have gone for three."

"How do you do that?"

"Ask me some night, when I am blind drunk and I may tell you."

"You never get that drunk."

"Exactly." Heyes grinned. "Ned?"

He held up two cards, discarding them.

Kyle asked for one.

And, Walt wanted four.

Heyes hesitated, wondering, 'why in the hell would he bet eight dollars on a dead hand.' Then gazing at his own dead hand, he tossed it down, settling in to deal and watch the others. 'hmmm, way Kid is staring at his hand, that one card did not help him any.' But, he was impressed, even surprised, when Curry put forth a two dollar bet.

Ned laid out two and added, five without a blink.

Kyle matched him and Heyes, thought, 'what has he got?'

Walt laid down the seven dollars and it was back to Curry, who called just as Heyes believed he would, by laying down his hand, three tens.

Heyes nodded, 'had my lousy pair of threes beat."

Ned laid down a trio of jacks with a triumphant smile.

'He may have it.' Heyes thought, his eyes going to Kyle.

Kyle spit in the spittoon, beamed at the others, and slowly, laid down out four deuces.

"Damn, Kyle." Wheat blurted and Heyes nodded agreement.

When Walt leaned in, saying, "Well, that was a close one." Laying his clumped up hand near the pot, "I got me the kings from around the world."

Before, he had hardly dropped his cards, Ned said, "Bullshit...at least, lay them out so we can see 'em. " His hand darting out to spread Walt's four kings across the table.

Even as his hand darted forward, so did Heyes', clamping Ned's hand to the table.

Ned looked to Heyes, and all movement ceased, except for Kyle who pushed his chair back, so he was no longer sitting between the new comers.

Heyes' mouth twitched and with a long exhale, he said, "I want you two flimflammers to listen real close. You have played fair poker until this move."

"Hey, now." Ned blurted.

Heyes shook his head and eyeballed him. "Hush...you should be listening."

Red rose in Ned's face and he blurted, "Now, wait one cotton picking minute, boy!"

"Whoo wee, ya must be tired of this life..." Kyle said, his words wrapped in his loud laughter, "...callin' Hannibal Heyes a boy"

At the mention of Heyes' full name, both Ned and Walt paled, their eyes sliding to Kid Curry, who waved at them. Recalling his hair-trigger draw earlier, they swallowed hard.

In an overly, pleasant tone, Heyes went on, "As I was saying, you been playing by the rules and to keep this congenial; Ned when I let go of you..." His eyes flicked to Walt, who was white knuckling the edge of the table. "...I want you to stand, pick up your coats, walk out of here, get on your horses and mark this area completely off of your list of places to visit."

"I would say, Heyes is offering you a right good deal." Kane said, with Preacher who had followed him over; nodding in agreement.

The stiffness in Ned's body fell away as his eyes shifted from the knifelike glare coming from the man, he now knew, was the leader of the Devil's Hole Gang, Hannibal Heyes.

"What exactly where these boys attempting, anyways?" Preacher asked.

"A simple nutshell trick. Wheat if you will pick up Ned's discarded hand, you will find only four cards there." As he said this, Heyes forcibly turned Ned's hand, he had pinned to the table, over. Under it lay a slightly worse for wear King, scrunched atop Walt's four cards."

"Hellfire, you are one sly devil to have caught that so quick." Wheat said, beaming at Heyes.

Heyes' dimpled smile appeared, he let go of Ned, standing up.

The pair of cheats leapt to their feet, shoved their currency in their pockets and looked to their share in the pot.

Curry tapped the butt of his Colt and the men darted for the door. The rushing of their boots, could not even be heard, over the laughter ripping from the men filling the Lil' Dipper.

"I am done, boys." Heyes stated, shuffling his piles of bills together.

Kyle squawked, "But, ya got most all our money. You can't be up and quittin'."

Heyes, pushed his hat back on his head, "It would be rude to say, I was bored, but-" He winked at the men, smiling largely.

Wheat shook his head, "Heyes all that there poker playin' you did when you visited Denver...well, it just made you no fun, at all, to play against."

"It made him too damn good, is what it did." Kyle grumbled.

"Why thank you, boys."

"And, arrogant." Preacher mumbled from where he stood next to Kane.

Heyes simply kept smiling, picked up his whisky, and in one gulp downed the amber liquid. Touching a finger to the brim of his silver-studded hat, he said, "See you around." and strolled over to the bar, hearing Kane say.

"Hey all, I'll take a seat now Heyes gone; makes me fretful as hungry cat to play against. Something 'bout the way he sees the cards, he just plain can't seem to lose."

"Aww, he is beatable. He was just having himself a run of luck was all." Wheat said.

At the bar, Heyes stepped up next to Lobo and smiled over at him.

Lobo, though did not smile back.

"So, you are sore at me, too." Heyes stated.

Lobo did not bother looking at Heyes, as he sharply snapped, "Ya ran me out of the game."

"Not me, Lobo, it was Lady Luck."

"Well, if it were her, I think she must be a whore because she is always by your side."

"Wouldn't that make her the opposite of a whore?" Heyes asked, arching an eyebrow at Lobo.

"You know what I mean Heyes."

Laughter rolled deep in Heyes' chest and he called out, "Hey, Chaplain. I will take some more, send a bottle of whiskey to the table, and top off Lobo's beer."

"Feeling sorry for the lot, are you?"

"Sorry Hell, need to keep them watchin' my back, not shootin' me in it."

Lobo jumped, spinning on Heyes, "Now that ain't fair Heyes, not fair at all. Not one of us would _ever _do anything of the sort."

"I was only pokin' at you, Lobo." Heyes replied, taking a solid slug of his whiskey and tapped his glass, for Chaplain to refill. Spying strawberry blonde hair from the corner of his eye, he turned, and seeing one of the Lil' Dippers calico queens, called out, "Hey, Molly_,_ you free?_"_

She flowed over, all her curves rolling and bouncing in tantalizing coordination, "Well, I ain't _free,_ but, I sure got time for you." She purred, snuggling up against him. "What you have in mind, Heyes?"

Bending to her mouth, he kissed her, taking time to savor the feel of her lips beneath his and pulling her closer let his kiss go deeper; until she pushed a hand against his chest, breaking away.

"That sounds like an invite to take you upstairs." She said softly, running her hand down his chest, over his holster buckle, and on down.

"Exactly, what I had in mind_,_" he answered, his voice sound thick and husky. "But first." He turned, snagging Lobo's hat off, and tossing it on the bar.

"What the hell?" Lobo grunted, reaching for it.

"Wait." Heyes instructed, holding out a hand and pulling the bankroll from his interior vest pocket, he halved it, tossing a pile of notes in the hat. "Go share..." he nodded his head backwards toward his men. "...and, I will give you a bonus, if you keep them from fightin' tonight."

_ # _

His hand trailed up the smooth flesh of Molly's thigh and with a comfortable sigh, he nestled snugger against her. 'Think I shall sleep right here, tonight,' and as Heyes considered this, he stroked her soft, warm belly causing Molly to shiver. Grinning, he rolled her over, telling himself, 'but not quite yet though.'

A thundering boom like the wrecking of freight wagon filled and rattled the Dipper.

Shoving Molly from him so fast, she almost rolled of the bed, Heyes was on his feet. Snatching his pants, he was hopping on one leg; when another crash that sounded like a horse running through the building, reverberated up to him.

"What is it, Heyes?" Molly whispered, pulling her knees and the sheet up to her chest.

He shook his head, taking up his Schofield, he leaned in giving her a quick kiss, and ran from the room.

Out in the hall, it was louder, and he heard, what he knew was Kid, hollering, "Oh yeah, will take that!"

Running faster, he flew down the stairs, emerging on the ground floor of the Lil' Dipper bare-footed and shirtless, in time to witness; Wheat throwing someone clean over the bar. The same bar, Mitchell Chaplain, the owner of the Lil' Dipper, was standing on top of, yelling. "You all cease and desist! Damn it, you gents knock this off!"

The entire room was rolling, twisting, clawing, fighting men. Heyes' astounded eyes scanned across the writhing mess and when his eyes met with Chaplain's.

The angry man, pointed at Heyes, "These are-" But, seeing his own son barreling by with a man in a slouch hat, brutally punching him. Chaplain snagged a bottle, smashing it down over slouch hat's head.

"Damn, Father, he dropped like you pole-axed 'em." Mikey Chaplin cheered, ducking a flying chair and jumping back into the swirling brawl.

Edging about the room, Heyes eluded and avoided combatants. Reaching the double front doors, he flung them open, firing rounds into the awning above the Dipper's front porch. The echoing, cracking, blasts jerked the wildcat party up short, most of them reaching for their side arms. And, Heyes, screamed "Everyone Hold It!" so loud, he broke into a cough afterwards.

Seeing who it was weapons fell back into holsters, chairs clattered to the wood floor, and men staggered apart.

"What the hell!?" Heyes raged, slamming the doors shut behind him, he stalked into the room. Noticing the shattered glass covering the floor, he leapt on top of a table, crossing its wobbly surface to the bar. Hopping bare-footed and barely dressed, up next to Chaplain, to stare down at the men. "What started this?"

From behind the bar, Jacob Ross, rose up, from where Wheat had thrown him, "Hey Heyes." He said cheerfully, then began giggling. "Hey Heyes...I gotta remember that." He kept giggling as he bent over to retrieve his hat. "You get it don't ya Heyes."

"Yes, I get it. Get out here, Jacob." Heyes shouted. Shaking his head at the bloodied and disheveled men. Hearing something he looked up to see the staircase littered with the Dipper's collection of ceiling experts. All of them, except, Molly, who was making her way to him, wrapped in a pink silk robe, with his boots in her hand.

Dropping down to sit on the bar top, he set his Schofield down and took his boots from her, Thank you, Molly."

With a giggle she darted back up the stairs to stand with the other twittering gals.

Chaplin, sank down next to Heyes, with an exaggerate sigh, he threw up his hands. "They have done hundreds in damages."

Now that he had his boots on, Heyes, hopped off the bar with his Schofield in his hand, saying, "If you want a place to drink in the future, than all of you best line up." He waved to the center of the saloon that was cluttered with rubble. Walking down the line, glass crunching beneath his boots, he glowered at the men, reaching the end, he asked, "Where is your leader?"

"Gordon went to see his family." A man with full black mustache and goatee with and a remarkable gash on his cheek, volunteered.

Snorting, Heyes paced back down the line assessing the battered men, "Lobo you ain't gettin' an bonus." He stated, as he passed the blonde, bearded man.

Lobo grinned, showing off streaks of blood on his teeth, "It sure were fun, though."

Scowling at him, he moved on, pausing in front of John Lillie, Heyes tilted his head to the side, "Lillie, I would say your nose is broken."

Lillie leaned out, "Damn it, Kane."

Heyes followed where he was looking to see Kane shrug and dab at his bleeding lip.

Passing his usually most quite outlaw, he growled, "Preacher."

"Heyes." Preacher answered with a smirk and next to him stood Curry.

"Nice shiner, Kid"

Curry felt gingerly of his swelling right eye.

"You start this?"

"Now, Heyes that that ain't fair!"

"Might not be, but a show of hands would say you have the hottest temper in here and most of the brawls, we all have been in, have been started by you. So, I am asking again, did you start this?"

"It weren't him, Heyes. It were..." Kyle leaned out and pointed. "...Jacob."

"I did not." Jacob shouted. "They was being four-flushin', flannel-mouth boneheads."

Heyes, waved his Schofield at Gordon's Round the Bend Gang, who were riling themselves up and shook his head.

They all stepped back into line grumbling.

Returning his attention to Kyle, Heyes leaned closer, "Kyle, is you missing a tooth."

"Yeah, but I got my payback." He pointed at a thin, shaggy haired blonde, laid out across a table.

"He alive?"

"Yeah, we already checked on Simon." replied, a balding member of Gordon's Gang.

"So again, what started this?" Heyes asked, putting his back against the bar where he could see all the men.

"They is bilks and liars, like I said, Heyes." Jacob answered and three of his buddies stepped out, hollering curses at Heyes' Gang.

Preacher shouted over them, "We were not attempting to defraud you. You all are merely uneducated in the rules of poker. "

Grinning like a five-year-old at Christmas, Wheat added, "And, lousy players."

Gordon's Gang came on at a rush and stepping out with his Schofield, Heyes snarled, "Step BACK!" Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Kyle, Curry, Wheat, Lobo, and Preacher sniggering like boys taking peeks in a girly show tent. Seeing them his shoulders sagged, "Please, tell me, all of you did not pull that Hoyle Straight rule on 'em."

The snorting and chuckling grew louder.

"I thought all of you learned your lesson up in Blue Jay." Heyes snorted, sliding the Remington back into his pant line, he stomped over to Preacher. "Give it to me."

"What?"

Heyes snarled, so angry his face was turning pale, "You know _what _the hell _what_."

Preacher grinned, pulling out a well-loved copy of Hoyles: The rules of Fashionable Games, grabbing it, Heyes slammed it on the bar.

"My Gang, listen to me..." Heyes barked, "Does this resemble a riverboat or, a big time gambling house?"

They all shook their heads.

"Correct! I am glad to see we are in agreement. So, unless we happen to be at one of those two locations, by God_, _I do _not_ want to hear anything about another little known Hoyle rule. Am I clear?"

This time they all nodded.

Jacob leaned out with a frown, "You mean, they wasn't scamming us?"

"Or, lying?" The man with the black mustache and goatee, asked.

"No, they were merely being jackasses." Heyes replied.

A laugh erupted from Wheat which sounded very much like a braying jackass and was picked up by rest of the gang.

Glancing at them, Heyes strolled closer to Gordon's men, "Since, 1857, Hoyle has written in their rule book, that neither a straight or, a flush is permissible in a game of stud poker, unless announced before the play begins."

Bill Carr, scratched at his head and winced, "I will be damned, they all was tellin' the truth."

"They was." Heyes waved an arm down the line-up of men. "Now all you, step up to the bar and give half of what is in your pockets to Chaplain."

"Heyes?"

"What?"

"Heyes!"

"To hell you say!"

"Heyes?"

He did not even bother to see who was grousing and calling his name, "Your choice, course, Chaplain can also put all you on list of those not allowed in here."

Chaplain nodded.

"The men moved forward unloading their pockets and seeing Preacher standing to the side, Heyes pointed at him saying, "You, too."

"But, I ain't got very much left, Heyes."

"Then the good lord giveth and good lord taketh away, Preacher, you too."

Preacher dug in his wallet, laying five dollars in Chaplin's hand.

With a final snort and shake of his head, Heyes stormed back to the stairs, kicking a broken chair out of his way. "And, clean this place up," he growled, stomping upstairs through the grasping, giggling saloon girls.


End file.
